So I Came Out

I have mentioned previously that I might and then on National Coming Out Day...I did! I came over via Facebook and the response was overwhelmingly positive. My conservative friends were dead silent of course, well except for one. All she did was like my coming out note, but as she is a staunch Republican I will take that as a personal victory.


I thought I would show you all what I said. Eventually I even allow for more transparency on this site. Like an actual picture of me! Maybe. We'll see. ;-)


Here is what I wrote:

"What is bravery? I have been told I was brave before, that I was one of the bravest individuals people have ever met. But I’m not, not really. All I’ve done is put one foot in front of the other in a desperate attempt to move forward and not get stuck. I have stumbled through life like everyone else. It is no big secret that I have not followed my five year plan or even my back up five year plan. Perhaps it is a secret though that I am happier than I have ever been in my entire life. All because I stopped listening to what others wanted for me, expected of me.

Now that I’ve written that nice intro paragraph (and professors said I didn’t write transitions!) let’s get into it. If you, like me, are a Facebook stalker then you have keep tabs on the people you went to school with. You want to know who’s married, who’s in grad school, who’s working where, and who’s having babies. So perhaps if you have stumbled on my profile in the past couple of years, you have noticed a visual change in your old schoolmate.

I have never been really girly, but you certainly can tell a difference between the pictures of me on Homecoming Court (I know! I’m still shocked about it!) and pictures of late. I cut my long hair short, really short, and I have started wearing slightly different apparel. I look well…perhaps a bit gay. Of course that is easily explained, in that I am a lot of gay. It’s probably not a huge shock for the people who knew me better than I knew myself, but maybe for some of you it is a shock.

I’m sure some of you are going, “Ha! I knew it!” Well I guess I would say congratulations. You win? Also I’d ask for how long have you’ve known? Because I didn’t know for the longest time and if someone might have told me I might have figured it out sooner. As it is I didn’t even entertain the thought that I was something other than straight until my senior year of college. Even still I was in such a state of denial that it was easy to rationalize various feelings. As many of you know I am a logic driven person, so it wasn’t too hard to explain away the confusing feelings.

Being gay wasn’t anything I wanted for myself. What I wanted was to go to medical school, marry my best friend, and have his silly little babies. I rather desperately wanted to feel more for my best friend than I did, but time and time again I infuriatingly didn’t. I loved him. I did, but I wasn’t in love with him. There came a point where I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I didn’t want it, but I wasn’t going to be given a choice in the matter it seemed.

After breaking things off with my best friend, now ex-best friend due my seemingly callous treatment of his feelings, I was alone with my thoughts. And let me tell you there were a lot of them. I considered what it would mean, to be gay. To be hated by people who don’t even know me. To be a second class citizen. To live in the constant fear of offending or provoking others, just for attempting to live as the person God made me.

The one thing I never worried about was whether or not God would still love me. It’s one of the reasons why even though I considered going away to ex-gay camp, I never went through with it. God is love, not hate. People can condemn me to hell all they want, but ultimately the decision isn’t theirs. I have always tried to live my life in a Christian manner. I try to be kind and help others. Does it make me less of a Christian if I’m gay?

Besides I may have been gay before I was a Christian, but I was Christian before I had even an inkling that I could be gay. Since God is important to me and since I can’t figure out a way to stop being gay, I have had to learn a way to reconcile the two. It actually has been a lot easier than I thought it would be, but then again I have a progressive thinking church here in Louisville to thank for that.

I have accepted being gay, but I’m still not fully comfortable with it. I will say I am much more comfortable in my skin now that I have changed certain visual aspects, namely my hair and wardrobe. However I was content to stay silent and live in those questioning looks, “Is she or isn’t she?” I saw openly gay folks all around me, but I didn’t think I had a right to be open. I have made a life of hiding and living in the background. It was alright. It is all I know.

But the pretending to be something I’m not got more and more draining. I became an actress who really couldn’t stand the role she played. So I came out little by little to friends. I should have been comforted by their acceptance, but often I became worried. Would they tell others? What would they say? What would happen? I was worried, because I was ashamed of who I am.

It wasn’t until someone very dear to me came out to me in secret, that I was forced to think about others. I didn’t want him to be ashamed of who he is. It is not his problem; it is the world’s. I didn’t want him to hate himself for something he couldn’t even help. Of course then if I thought this way about him, then I had to apply it to myself.

Now don’t expect any big changes from me. I’m still the same quiet, self-effacing, modest and wonderfully witty girl I’ve always been. I’m not going to strut down the sidewalk in a rainbow pin-stripe suit, because that’s just not who I am. I imagine I’ll simply do the same things I always do: hang out with friends, go to church, and save lives whether it is as an EMT or a doctor I guess we’ll see.

Because while I am gay I am so much more than that. As the poet Walt Whitman once wrote, “I am large, I contain multitudes.” I don’t want friends to look at me and go, “oh that’s the gay one”. Or “Whatever happened to her?” followed by “Oh she’s gay now.” I mean really? I understand gossip will happen. It’s inevitable. So gossip, but don’t forget I’m still the intelligent woman who helped you out when you were struggling, the stubborn girl who doesn’t give up, the woman who is always there to listen, heck I’ll even take the girl who sometimes lets her temper gets the best of her.

I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be who I am and not apologize for it. I know I may lose friends, but I’ve come to a place where I don’t need to spend time on fair-weather friends. I may cause potential opportunities to be stripped from my hands, but it’s better than living a lie. I’ve seen firsthand the pain that living the lie causes. I don’t want that for myself. I want to be honest and open. I want to be brave. I have often wished I was as brave as you think I am. Maybe today I finally am."

QBP: "Bravery is believing in yourself, and that thing nobody can teach you."  -El Cordobes 

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This Past Month and To Come Out or Not to Come Out?

     A month after taking my practical test I am almost employed as an EMT.  It’s been a frustrating wait.  First I waited for NREMT to approve my practicals.  That took a week.  Then I had to wait until my NREMT card came in the mail which took four days.  Then I had to go fill out paperwork.  Then I had to wait for one state to approve me.  After that I had to make an appointment and drive an hour to get my other state’s license.  Of course once I had all my certifications I had to apply to my company again.  It took a few days for them to call me back for the interview.  Finally I had the FIRST part of the interview this Tuesday.  The second part is this upcoming week and includes a multiple choice test, a fitness test, and of course a drug test.  Maybe finally then I will be hired on and I can start to use the skills I’ve been taught.

     The last thing for now is that I am considering coming out in a big way.  I’ve considered writing a long Facebook note about it and then letting the chips fall where they may.  I don’t want my baby brother, who is gay himself, feel like he has to hide who he is nor should he be ashamed of being gay.  (Though I frankly want him to hide until he graduates from his high school which is in a deep south state.)  But if I don’t want my brother to feel ashamed, then I have to apply that to myself.  I’m sick of pretending I am something I’m not.  Plus I don’t think most people would care…well except for maybe my ex-sorority sisters. 

     The only thing keeping me from posting the note is that I’m scared and that I haven’t been able to figure out how to end my story.  Granted I could just tell people I’m gay in person one by one, but I have this tendency to either gloss over the fact I’m gay or lie about it when confronted.  I think I’d be braver behind a computer than in person.  Anyone close to me in this city knows I’m gay and I’m pretty much living open in life.  It’s those people outside of the city who may be guessing but don’t truly know anything who this note would be for.

      Sometimes feel like a fraud when it comes to being gay.  I haven’t ever kissed a girl.  Certainly I’ve never had sex with them.  But then again I am only attracted to women.  I only want to kiss women.  I just lack the game/confidence to follow through with things.  I have this irrational fear that I will come out and then suddenly I’ll fall in love with a guy.  But it’s laughable.  If I’m not gay then I am more likely to be asexual than straight.  I absolutely know I am not straight.  Why am I so scared of posting this note? 

     Right now I envy my friends who have known they were gay for a long time and besides high school never had to live or lie about being someone different.  Sigh.  I guess we all have our journeys which we must make.  This is mine.

Love her and love this song.

The NREMT Exam

     The key to the NREMT is to take it soon after your EMT course is finished.  That way you won’t forget too much before you take the test.  I took it less than a week after I passed my practical exam.  While studying for practicals I also studied and went through this review book I bought.  I’ve put the picture below so you know which book I was studying from.  The book is filled with 300 questions and explanations.  It had a few odd and wrong answers especially if you take into account the new updated AHA standards for CPR, but otherwise it was a valuable resource.  I also went back to my textbook and review the more difficult sections: OB, head injuries, and environmental injuries (hypothermia, snake bites, deep sea diving injuries, etc.).  Also I reviewed my scales: Glasgow Coma, Apgar, and for good measure Revised Trauma Score.

     Waiting to get authorization to schedule my test was a bit of a pain.  I had to wait a few days after I passed my practicals for my state proctor to clear my class.  Once I was given authorization I got my letter which explained how to register.  I decided to do it online and was pleased with the ease of use.  I could see all the open days and see the times available.  I was initially was going to test for today, but the early weekdays were already booked, so I decided to test for the Friday of that week in the afternoon.

     One and my classmates coordinated so that we could test at the same time and carpool.  We managed to find the site pretty easily.  We each had to provide two forms of ID, a driver’s license and a passport, or social security card (or something equivalent).  Then I had to get my palm scanned so it could take a picture of my palm print.  I thought that was pretty weird.  I asked why they didn’t use fingerprints anymore, and he told me the palm had more points of identification.  Next I had my picture taken by webcam so you know it’s gotta be quality.  I stashed all my stuff, including my watch and cellphone, into a provided for locker. 

     Then I went to just outside the test center and had my palm scanned again, I guess to make sure I hadn’t changed my hands in the last two minutes.  It was actually amusing, because it was having trouble scanning my hand and when it did it turned me into a blonde girl with long hair.  Fortunately the testing proctor and I both noticed the obvious difference.  Finally I got to go into the testing area, where the walls were lined with computers with dividers in between.  I got to sit next to my friend, though I couldn’t see him at all from my seat.  The proctor logged into the computer and finally I got to start the test.

     A few instructions on how to work the computer test and I was off!  I think it gives you two hours to finish everything.  There are two tricks to the NREMT.  The first is that it is an adaptive computer test, so that means if you get a question wrong it will probably ask you a similar question.  There is no set number of questions.  You could finish in 50; you could finish in 130.  Also a notable difference is the fact that you cannot go back to a previous question.  When you hit ‘Next’ that’s the last time you’ll ever see that question again, so be sure you certain about your answer, as much as you can be.

     There are six categories they use and have questions about on the test: Airway & Breathing, Cardiology, Medical, Trauma, OB/Gyn/Peds, and Operations.   Other than knowing the categories there is no telling what questions you’re going to have.  I conferred with my classmate after the test and he had some really different questions than the ones I had.  He took in 125 questions and had a lot of questions about OB, Airway and Breathing, and even some on Orthopedics.  I took it in around 60 and had a lot of questions about Airway and Breathing, and an inordinate amount on Triage and Mass Casualty Incidents and not a single Orthopedic question.

     I was actually angry when I finished the exam.  I was on a roll and then all of a sudden I was cut off and the computer told me I was finished.  I had finished the test in less than a half hour.  It didn’t feel right.  I had been trying to keep track of the question number, but I stopped looking around 30, so I finished anywhere at 50-70 questions.

      After waiting an hour for my friend to finish I finally got to go home and wait…and wait…and wait.  Since I took my test on a Friday afternoon I had to wait until Monday morning to finally see if I passed or not.  You can find whether or not you passed under Application Status on the NREMT.org site.  I ended up passing, and so did my friend.  So it really doesn’t matter how matter questions you take the test in.  You can fail at 60 questions as easily as pass it and the same goes for 130 questions.  Plus sometimes they put in experimental questions which don’t get graded, but help the testers decided to put it on a future exam, like one that my friend had was weird.  “What is the tightest knot?”  Um…I don’t know.  Go ask a boy scout or a firefighter.  Just don’t be flustered by weird questions like that.  More likely than not it’s an experimental question.

      So next for me is to wait until NREMT approves my practicals then I have to go to the EMS State Office in this state to get reciprocity so I can have my dual certification.  After that I can finally apply to work at the place that taught me and go through their hurdles.  But it doesn’t matter, but I am an EMT and it’s worth it for the chance to change and save lives.

QBP: "Next to creating a life, the finest thing a man can do is save one." -Abraham Lincoln

Taking the NREMT Exam Friday

Friday I'll be taking the National test for EMTs, so that's exciting.  That's right.  I am one of those weird people who actually get excited about taking tests.  I think I'll do well.  I consistently got the top score in my EMT class.  Though when you're one of the very few who has a college education it is not too surprising.  Even though I don't think I will do too badly, taking important tests while exciting is always somewhat nerve-wracking.  If I fail then I'll just have to take it again and that means more time before I can start working and more money out of my pocket.  


Guess that means I should study...more.  I will be sure to give an nauseatingly detailed account of my experience taking the NREMT Exam this weekend.  I just know you can't wait!

I'm back!

So how was everyone's summer?  Mine was semi-productive, after I finally dragged my butt out of bed.  I just finished an accelerated EMT class.  All I have to do to have certification in two states is to take and pass the NREMT exam.  Once that is finished I can go ahead and get myself a real job!


I was planning on reapplying to medical school this year, but I am just so burned out.  So I am postponing until next year.  But for now I am putting the focus on getting a job as an EMT.  Get a job, make money, then worry about the future.


I am very sorry for being away for so long.  I had some personal journeys I had to get through.  I will have more to say on that in the future.  I am going to be taking advantage of the relative anonymity of this blog and air out some dirty laundry.  So for the next bit the blog is going to be focuses on my issues, including family and my inability to say yes to girls who want to date me.  


Until the next post!

Why I Struggle with the Idea of Heaven

     In Christianity there is a certain tenet across most sects that is prevalent: the idea of heaven and hell.  I suppose it makes me a bad or at least unusual Christian, but I don't think I can believe in Heaven or even an afterlife.  Being blessed and cursed with a highly logically mind had led me to this conclusion. 

     My faith only goes as far as believing in God and the basic principles of Christianity.  Hell is not one of those.  Not believing in Hell is easy for me, because I believe that a God of Love of would not subject his people to torment that way.  I also think that every person has some amount of good in them; it may be just a speck, but it's there.  And for a God of Love to send these folk to Hell is cruel.  I mean think of the mentally ill who commit violent crimes not because of their free will, but because of their illness.  Where do they end up?  They can't end up in Hell, not for just being who God made them to be!  So I logiciked that it makes more sense that there isn't a Hell.  Hell is easy to discount.  But Heaven?

     I want to believe there is a Heaven or some sort of afterlife, but right now I can't/don't/won't.  My view of the soul is more of a person's conscience and personality than something that is going to float up into the sky to rest at God's side after I die.  However though I struggle with the idea of Heaven, I don't struggle with my belief in God.  Call it what you will: a universal force, coincidence, God, Allah, Yaweh, Vishnu, Jehovah, or Eloheim.  I believe in some form God exists in the world and in all of us.  I will always doubt God's existence, but my belief in Him will never be uprooted from my mind. 

     Anyways that being said, Religion is a man construct.  Humankind loves stories.  I am more led to believe that that is what Heaven is, a fairy tale told to adults so that they move away from their animalistic impulses and become good men of character.  Because positive reinforcement works.  I also believe Heaven exists because death and the unknown that follow are terrifying prospects.  Better to believe life goes on, albeit in a different manner, one where you get rewarded for making through the tough shit that is life.

     Heaven is a crutch.  There are a whole lot of Christians who have stopped living to live, and instead live to die.  That is insanity in my head.  Then there are those Christians who have moved away from Jesus teachings and towards hate, denouncing others.  They have created a system of have and have nots, but in this system it's Heaven they have and Hell for the rest of us.  Well if there is a Heaven, I'm afraid they are in for a rude awakening when Jesus walks up to them with the Bible, and says, "Did you not read this thing!?!" 

     Okay, I discussed my thoughts on Heaven, and my thoughts are a bit cynical.  I can't leave you guys here.  So I'll tell what I do believe in, History.  History is easy to believe in, just pick up any textbook to read the stories of long since dead men and women.  They may has passed, but they live on in our books, and through the actions they have had on people in their lifetime, for good or bad.  I mean your grandparents raised your parents a certain way and that was reflected on how they raised you.  History is there; it's palpable in a way Heaven is not.

     Since I believe in History, I feel like I have to be the best person I can be.  Because how I act and what I do in my life has an effect on others, who in turn influence others and on and on, in varying degrees of importance.  This is also easy to believe because others have affected me positively and negatively and that affects how I interact with others.  I am a Christian, but really I feel more like a Jesus Follower.  I use Jesus's teachings as a template for the person I would aspire to be.  And I use Church as a support group for these views. 

     My name may never get into the History books, and I may never end up with my name on the cover of a book, but it doesn't matter.  If a single action has changed someone's life in one small way I will live on forever in the collective conscious of this world.  I may change my mind on Heaven some day, but for now, this is my life and afterlife.

QBP: "If nothing we do in this world matters, then the only thing that matters is what we do."  -Joss Whedon

Butch Symposium Round Up #2: Butch Stereotypes and Misconceptions

     Butch Lab Symposium #2 is here!  For the first symposium the topic was "What is Butch?".  Here you can find my entry and the round up for that topic.  This next topic was about the stereotypes and misconceptions that exist with the Butch identity and image.  As a young butch I do try my best to write at least something that could be thought provoking, if not beautifully scribed.  My entry for this topic can be found here, and I encourage each of you to check out what the other symposium participants felt about the issue.  Just check the links below or at Butch Lab.

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Butch Lab Symposium #2: Stereotypes, Cliches, and Misconceptions on Butch Lab:

• Ali Oh at Made of Words: Bottoms Up, Thumbs Up
• Madeline Elayne: Butches Don’t Wear Pink (and other fallacies)
• Victoria Oldham at Musings of a Lesbian Writer: Misconceptions
• Wendi Kali at A Stranger in This Place: Butch Stereotypes, Cliches, and Misconceptions
• RM at Letters from Titan: Butch Isn’t Ugly
• Kyle on Butchtastic: Butch Stereotypes, Cliches and Misconceptions:
• EST at A Lesbian Christian on Butch Stereotypes
• Joliesse Soul at This Side of Changed on Butch Stereotypes
• Laina at The Bookish Butch
• Harrison at How to Be Butch on Stereotypes, Cliches, and Misconceptions
• Lenore Louhi at Twenty Pebbles, a piece titled “Smoke”
• Cody on Cowboy Coquet on Stereotypes, Cliches, and Misconceptions 

My month long absence

Sorry readers about not posting for so long!  I have some catching up to do!  Have to post the new Butch Symposium Round Up!  Also I've got a religious contemplation entry to post after that.

The short of the long, is that I got rejected from medical school for a second time, the military thing fell apart and family issues equals not really want to do anything except brood and sulk for weeks.  I've finally got my head back on relatively straight now though.  

So I'm back.  I'll try and keep the post twice a week schedule, but it may devolve in a single post a week as I try just what in tarnation I am going to do with my life.

Also I just want to thank everyone for reading and commenting on my second Butch Symposium Post.  Now that I'm back I'm going to do my best to comment on the other extremely well written posts that put mine to shame.  

Back when I was homophobic

     I grew up in the great blue north, and felt that gay was normal, more than normal, cool.  So when I say I was homophobic, I don’t mean gay bashing homophobic.  I mean literally I was afraid of the same sex. 

     My personal space bubble in high school was well documented.  Hugs were a rarity, and if I were to give one it probably went to the guy I was dating.  I just didn’t do affection.  In college I learned about the power of hugs and I started to let people into my bubble…occasionally.  But still when it came to girls I was very picky as to would I allow there. 

     College is also where I met my first lesbians and made lesbian friends.  And as much as I loved them or supported I didn’t want to see them doing anything together or hear about it.  I was quoted as saying something to effect to lesbians friends W and SL, “Your love is a wondrous thing and makes me feel weird.”

     As for being in a sorority?  My personal uncomfortableness and extreme modesty became well known among my sisters.  It even became a game.  At important events I would get “boobed” by certain sisters.  I went along with the game, because it was meant to be funny, but it tore me up inside.  This game came to a halt when after an event the girls were changing.  I was surrounded by a room of half naked women and I was overwhelmed.  Then I got boobed by a sister and then I hid away and cried.  It was so freaking confusing as to why I was crying. 

     At a meeting with a small group of sisters I had gotten close to, I was asked why I was so uncomfortable around women.  I postulated that it was because my alcoholic mother was never affectionate with me.  One of my friends stated this didn’t quite explain my uncomfortableness.  While I agreed with this, I couldn’t think of another reason.  I said it could be because my mother only ever hugged me while drunk.  But even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them.

     Since college I finally figured out I was gay, and interestingly enough my fear of women has pretty much vanished.  I’m still not the most lovey dovey individual, but my personal bubble is much much smaller now.  I’m still quite modest, but that’s because I don’t wear skin showing girly clothes, cause I’d rather guy clothes.  And I’ve never had anyone to be naked with, so nakedness is unusual to me. 

     And that’s how the great big gayness resting in my soul destroyed the evil homophobia.

     The end.

QBP: "The roots of homophobia are fear. Fear and more fear." -George Weinberg

pic source

My Lenten Promise

I vow to give up self-hatred and slothfulness.  And in an effort to better my relationship with God, I will pray/converse with God everyday for the forty days of Lent.

Butch Symposium: Butch Stereotypes

 This is the second edition of the Butch Symposium going on at Butch Lab, created by Sugarbutch.

"What do people think “butch” means? What are the stereotypes around being butch? What do people assume is true about you [or about your masculine of center friends], but actually isn’t? What image or concept do you constantly have to correct or fight against? How do you feel about these misconceptions? How do you deal with them? Do you respond to these stereotypes or cliches? How?"

Butches hate men.  Butches drive motorcycles.  Butches wear leather jackets.  Butches are the “man” in the relationship and perform all the “male” duties.  Butches work with their hands.  Butches aren’t intellectuals.  Butches can only have short hair in a men’s style.  Butches like beer and sports.  Butches are mean.  Butches cannot access their feelings.  Butches want to be men.  Butches will only date Femmes and do not date other Butches.  Butches are (always) the sexually dominant ones.  Butches only wear masculine attire.  Butches under the age of thirty do not exist.

        I think the very first assumption is that if you’re a woman who presents masculine of center, is that you must be a lesbian.  This is perhaps true a lot of the time, due to homosexual being “alternative” there is more room for gender expression in that community.  But as Franky Fitzgerald of the new Skins generation has shown us, one does not have to love girls to feel most comfortable wearing masculine attire.  Assumptions specifically about me are tough due to my soft butch look.  More people would rather assume I am like them, straight and gender normative, than see me as I truly am and present.  

        The assumption that strikes me the most is that Butches cannot be intellectuals.  When I look at the representations of Butches in the media, I cringe.  A Butch can’t be a doctor, or a lawyer, and if she’s a professor she’s a women’s studies professor.  

        Any misconceptions I hear about butch women I personally respond back to, but I’m afraid I’m not brought into those discussions.  I present “normal” enough, which means I’m “safe”, which also means I don’t provoke those types of questions.  And it bugs me.  I want to get into the fight.  I want to support my Butch brothers and sisters.

I finish answering these questions with a question of my own.  What is that line between “normal” presenting and “Butch” presenting?  Or what has it been for you guys?  

Bought my first pair of men’s pants today

     It has been my plan ever since I started wearing men’s (boy’s) shirts, that I would one day buy men’s pants.  Each time I pulled on a pair of suffocatingly tight women’s jeans, or looked in the mirror at how the jeans hugged my curves, I thought about getting men’s pants.  But I didn’t.  Mostly because I was scared.  If I wore men’s pants would it change how people looked at me?  After I came out to my church friends, and got my hair trimmed short again, I realized that at this point wearing differently gendered pants was not going to matter.

     One issue down, next?  How did men size their pants?  A quick internet search provided me with the information.  Waist length by Inseam Length.  Okay…then I needed a measuring tape (and the only one I could find was pink…just tell me why “girly” things have to be pink?).  Measurements roughly taken.  Next to the store!

     Nope.  I waited and waited.  It wasn't until my roommate had to go to Old Navy before I finally made the decision to purchase the pants.  I think a store like Old Navy is great for the baby butch who doesn’t want to break the bank.  The jeans are moderately priced and usually the workers don’t care enough to bother you.  Plus I could easily slip in and out of the fitting room without being harassed by an attendant. 

     Though it was nerve wracking, I selected a few pairs of jeans of different measurements around the ones I took with my measuring tape.  I tried the different sizes on until found the measurements that worked best for me.  Then all I had to do was find the pants that I liked.  In the end I selected a pair of dark jeans, lighter jeans, and gray cargo pants I found on clearance. 

      So even though my heart pounded and I was wary of looks, I found that as long as I just went about my tasks no one bothered me.  And the day ended with success.

QBP: "Clothes make the man.  Naked people have little or no influence on society." -Mark Twain

So...

I lied.  Franky post is pushed back to come out eventually in the future.  As for today's post how about this:

Non-lesbian broke things off with the guy she was dating (for about a month).  Tonight she will be seeing me at a social gathering for the first time in several weeks.  Interesting times may (but will probably not) ensue!

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So my dream of becoming a military doc may be just that.  Nothing is set in stone yet, but it's not looking good.

I'm working on a recap to the first episode of the fifth season of Skins (UK).  But recent events have me not wanting to write, but I'll try to get it out by Friday.

Enlisting Update #2

The military is so aggravating. So finally the chart records I've been waiting for come, years 12 and older. No record of asthma. Should be a good thing right, because I'm not supposed to have asthma then, but no. That's a bad thing.

My recruiter told me that my records are off to the doctor to be approved/disapproved. Which to a logical individual means oh hey no asthma after age 12, you're good! But since there is no mention of it, BECAUSE I WAS 10!, my recruiter thinks they'll send me to get a pulmonary function test...which they won't pay for!

I am beyond livid. Please if anyone has other options for me to do in life, please tell me cause this is stupid. Logic...apparently not a factor in the military.

Coming Out to My Church Friends

     Last month I had made a promise that I would at the new gay ministry group that started up, to come out and to tell my brother’s story (which can be read here).  Since then I have come out to one of my church friends, by way of Facebook message since I couldn’t get the words out any other way.  This church friend, D, promised me she would support me at the ministry group meeting.

     When I arrived, immediately I started to feel my heart beat faster.  Last month there were only six people who showed up.  This month there were about twenty.  I’m not so good at doing the emotional thing in general, particularly when there is more than one other person listening.  I sat next to D, and tried to calm my heart down.  I was fine telling strangers, even the church friends of mine who came, but when a few ministers of my church came in, I thought my heart was going to break from my chest.

     I was volunteered to go first, but I could barely think, so I pledged to share later.  I had hoped that after listening to a few shares, my heart would ease up, but it didn’t.  I could see my shirt moving from my heart beating so hard.  I was worried I was going to pass out.  Nothing was helping.  Finally my friend, D, gave her own share and made sure everyone in the room knew she was there “to support them”.  A secret message saying D was there for me.  It was only then after taking a few deep breaths that I volunteered to share.

     I won’t lie.  It was rough.  I couldn’t do anything but stare at my shoes and talk, and even then my words fell on top each other.  I quickly came out in the beginning, and then transitioned equally quickly to the story about my brother.  I started to get choked up when talking about him and the attempted suicide.  I didn’t cry, but it was a near thing.  I stopped before I completely lost it, and then stared at the floor some more. 

     If there was a sense of relief, I don’t think I felt it.  Instead I felt really shaky and uncomfortable, so much so that I still couldn’t look anyone in the eye.  So after the next share was done, I went to the bathroom and just stood and breathed until I was in control and not my emotions.  Though I still felt shaky I was better enough that I could look everyone in the eye and listen to the rest of the shares.

     After the meeting was over, my church friend, B, came over and hugged me tightly.  He was very supportive, as well as my friend D and my minister.  I even received support from strangers.  The leader of the ministry group was especially moved by my share, later telling me I “inspired him”.  But what struck me most was people calling me brave and telling me they were proud of me.  It felt weird.  I’m not brave and what have I’ve done to be proud of: saying words?  Finally coming out?  Probably.

     Though I was blessed by supportive, wonderful friends, I don’t think I’ll be coming out again anytime soon.  I was shaky for a whole hour after and I hate feeling that way.  I just wish my church friends would tell the rest of my church friends, so I don’t have to. 

     But yay for me getting through this and for saying words.  Woo words!  

QBP: "Never apologize for showing feeling.  When you do so, you apologize for the truth." -Benjamin Disraeli

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